“Pull hard!” cried Andy Racer.

“Pull hard yourself,” retorted his brother.

“We’ve all got to pull for all we’re worth if we want to get that whale before someone else does,” added Bob Trent. They were all three in the old captain’s big boat—the one in which Bob had been out clamming when he sighted the wounded whale, and hastened to shore with the news.

“Do you think anyone else would want it?” asked Frank, as he labored at the heavy oars. There was room for the trio of lads to handle sweeps.

“Sure, most anyone would want a whale,” replied Bob. “It’ll be worth a lot of money to the fertilizer factory, and then there’s the oil.”

“Then there’s the whalebone,” put in Andy eagerly. “We ought to get a lot of money for that.”

“This kind of a whale doesn’t have the sort of bone that is valuable, I believe,” suggested Frank. “It’s only for the oil that they’re hunted. But still, if we can get this one we ought to knock out a pretty penny.”

“If there was a lump of ambergris in it we’d all be millionaires!” exclaimed Andy eagerly.

“Well, of course ambergris is said to be found in dead whales,” admitted Frank, as he cast a look over his shoulder to observe their course, “but our whale isn’t dead yet.”

“And maybe we won’t get it after all,” went on Bob. “Have you seen him spout lately?”

“No, but then he may have sounded and it will be about fifteen minutes before he comes up again,” announced Frank. “Was he nearly dead, Bob?”

“Pretty far gone. Some gulls were hovering over him in anticipation, I guess, and that’s a good sign.”

“I wonder what mom will say,” came from Frank, after a pause. “We sort of promised we wouldn’t go whaling again, Andy.”

“I don’t believe she’d care if she knew how it was, but we didn’t have time to tell her. Besides, she doesn’t like to be interrupted when she’s golfing. Anyhow, this whale is nearly dead and there can’t be any harm going for a dead one. It was a live one she and dad were thinking about when they warned us.”

“I guess so,” agreed Frank. “Anyhow we’re out now and we might as well keep on. I wonder—”

“There she blows again!” interrupted Bob excitedly, and he stopped rowing long enough to point to a spot in the bay not far distant.

“And she’s spouting blood now!” fairly yelled Andy. “That whale is ours as sure as guns! Have you a line aboard, Bob?”

“Yes, a long anchor rope, strong enough, I guess, for what I need. Let’s put in a little closer. We can keep track of the whale now. Don’t lose sight of it.”

“One of us had better keep on the watch,” proposed Andy.

“What are you trying to do—get out of rowing?” asked his brother with a laugh.

“No, we can take turns being lookout. Only we don’t want to lose sight of the whale.”

This was agreed to, and, as he had suggested it, Andy was allowed to take his place in the bow and watch the progress of the immense animal. It was a large whale, probably seventy-five feet long and big in proportion. It was swimming slowly along, about half submerged.

“Don’t go too close,” advised the younger Racer boy, in memory of what had once happened to him when he first met the whale. “It may remember me and be anxious to finish up what it began.”

“Do you suppose it’s the same one?” Frank wanted to know.

“Shouldn’t be a bit surprised,” said Bob. “There would hardly be two whales around here so close together, and both injured. That’s your whale sure enough. But Andy’s right, we must not get too near. It might take a notion to charge us.”

Accordingly they sheered off, and rowed along in a course parallel with that of the monster. They had paid little attention to where they were heading, and it was not until an exclamation from Frank drew their attention to it that they noticed how far away from land they were.

“We’ll have a fine long row to get back,” observed Andy.

“Yes, towing the whale, too,” added his bother.

“Maybe we’d better take a chance and make fast,” suggested Bob. “I think I can get my anchor line over that harpoon I see sticking out, and then we can begin towing.”

“Nixy on that!” exclaimed Andy quickly. “We don’t tackle any live whales. We’ll wait for this one to die.”

“I wish it would hurry up about it then,” grumbled Frank. “I don’t want to stay out here all night.”

Suddenly, as he spoke there was a flurry of water about the dying monster of the deep.

“Look out!” yelled Andy. “It’s coming for us.”

“Back water!” shouted Bob.

They bent to the oars with a will, Andy taking up his discarded ones. But they need not have been alarmed. It was the last move the whale was destined to make. Rearing itself partly up out of the water the monster suddenly sank, making such a commotion that the boat of the boys was tossed about like a chip in the surf.

“He’s sounded again!” shouted Andy.

“No, that’s the end,” said Bob, who had heard his father tell of whaling voyages. “The whale is dead, and he’s gone to the bottom.”

“Then we can’t get it,” came regretfully from Andy.

“Oh, yes we can,” declared Bob.

“How?” Frank wanted to know.

“Why, after a whale dies, and sinks, gases very soon begin to form inside it. This swells it up like a balloon, and it comes to the top again. Then we can get it.”

“How long will it take?” asked Andy, with an anxious look at the sun, for it was getting late.

“Oh, maybe an hour, perhaps longer,” replied Bob. “We will just have to hang around here until it comes up.”

“I hope our folks don’t get worried about us,” remarked Frank, who was a little uneasy about having gone off as they had so suddenly. “We left Paul at the clubhouse all alone, too.”

“Oh, well, he won’t mind. There’s lots going on, and we’ll soon be back—if we have luck,” commented Andy.

“Queer about that Paul,” spoke Bob. “You haven’t seen anything more of that strange man; have you?”

“No, and I’m afraid we won’t, either,” declared the elder Racer boy. “It seems to be a mystery we’ll never solve. If we could only find that missing motor boat it might help some. But I guess that’s sunk, though it was floating when we took Paul aboard our craft.”

The boys rowed slowly about the spot where the whale had gone down, casting eager glances from time to time at the rolling billows. They were careful to keep far enough away so that the rising monster would not come up beneath them, and capsize the boat.

It was a little short of an hour when Frank, who had stood up to stretch his cramped legs, suddenly uttered an exclamation:

“Look!” he cried, and pointed dead ahead.

Something rose from the sea, rolled over sev............